- SNEAK PEEK -
If Rick lived to be a hundred and ninety years old, he would never understand what made him tell the most outlandish lie of his life.
The moment the words, I’m Cayme’s fiancé, left his mouth, everything inside the store slowed to a snail’s pace. Even his own heartbeat seemed to stop. Maybe the situation wasn’t real, just some bizarre aberration his imagination had conjured up.
Then Cayme stiffened and emitted a strange little squeak.
Not an aberration. Everyone had heard his words.
His gaze dropped to her face, hoping the apology was clear in his eyes.
She stared up at him, her blue eyes wide. Her mouth was slightly open, and the tip of her tongue darted between those kissable lips. Two spots of color flagged each cheek.
He had to admit that he was a little stunned, too.
His impulsive announcement was foolish, to say the least. What if she was involved with someone? And if she was, why wasn’t he there to save the day? He blamed Chase Peters for these contradicting emotions that made him itch to break the guy’s perfect nose— maybe knock out a few teeth while he was at it.
Instead, he placed a finger under Cayme’s jaw and gently pushed her mouth shut. The touch was electric.
The bookstore and people fell away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in a private cocoon.
His finger lingered on the smooth silk of her skin. He was tempted, beyond what any man should endure, to slide his palm up the side of her face and pull her close. He liked the way she smelled of fresh honeysuckle—the way she shivered under his touch. He couldn’t ignore the protective swell in his chest. With sudden clarity, he realized that this urge to protect her was exactly the reason he’d blurted out the insane announcement.
Rick swallowed the unexpected punch of desire that drove through his chest, making him want to kiss her fully on the mouth. That would be a monumental mistake because he’d probably never stop.
- Prize One -
- Prize Two -
- Prize Three -
- Prize Four -
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